Author's Note: This is set right after GMM #518 and the GMMore following after that episode.

Link Neal stepped into the restroom, shutting the door behind him without having to turn his lanky body 180 degrees. The building was like a second home to him, another comfort zone. He knows every hallway, every room that are in these hallways, and what is to be found in these rooms. It was all too familiar to Link. He could hear the crew departing for the day, exchanging repeated good-bye's and see-ya-later's with his best friend and co-host Rhett McLaughlin in the studio where they tape the Good Mythical Morning and Good Mythical More episodes. Hearing the other man's voice even through the walls of the closed off lavatory was what made Link break his stiffness and creep ever so sluggishly to the mirror above the sink. He looked himself over, the newly improved Charles Lincoln Neal, and exhaled a drawled groan of distress.

He strongly disliked what he saw, and who was staring back at him. Link gazed down at the article of attire he wore. A Columbia Blue button up shirt with its sleeves a bit pass his elbows, smothered with grease splotches, some light jeans mingling with a belt that consisted of a large silver buckle, and some light brown boots tucked under the bottom of the pants.

Link examined himself from the neck up, which held the majority of his hatred of the makeover. There was the phony jet black beard that kept his uncommonly sharp Adam's apple hidden, and the fuzzy caterpillar of the same color above his upper lip. The stitched scar that lay just below his right eye, the only oculus that was not protected by a eyepatch, looked so poorly drawn on his light skin. People who stand within 10 feet away from him can tell that it was only the work of a liner on his upper cheek, Link had thought to himself once he leaned in closer to the mirror and studied the marking more.

Now, he did not mind his hair being so jelled and slicked back, the man even had to admit that it looked rather fashionable on him. Oh, but the spider-skull tattoo on his forehead! He was only thankful that it was a fake.

Link's slim fingers stroke the false facial hair, letting the tips feel the softness of the personal prop. At least it had a gentle feel to it. That did not change how he felt about wearing it, however. Without a moment for reconsidering what he was about to do, Link began to tug at the ends of the beard, gradually peeling it off his face. When done he did the same thing with the mustache, though this time Link was more gentle since it lay on his upper lip, which meant that the area was more sensitive than below the jaw.

Once finished, he set both props down on the toilet seat cover, took off the stupid eyepatch and placed it with the others, then twisted the knob that releases cold water from the faucet. Link placed his hands in the sink with his palms up and let them be soaked by the icy liquid for a good five seconds. He leaned his face forward and splashed the water on him, rubbing at the spot where the stitch rest on his cheek and his forehead to get rid of the tattoo. It began to aggravate Link when the tattoo considered more effort to wash off than the drawn seam, so he scrubbed at his forehead hastily, increasing speed and pressure with every stroke. "Come on.", he grumbled grumpily.

At this point, the brand on his now reddening skin was putting up a fight as it took a while to get the chipping off. Link was now scrapping away at the surface as if it were an intense itch, dipping his hands under the sink to receive more water again and again, continuously wetting his face. His level of irritation went from a 9 to a 17 in seconds worth, seventeen being the maximum, and the more he clawed his volume of complaining raised. "Agh! What. The. Hell?!"

His temper was rising, threatening to blow his top off. He decided that he has had enough and lost himself, scratching at his entire face furiously like an enraged feline instead of just attacking his forehead. He screamed a blood curdling yell that may leave his larynx stinging.

Through his conniption, Link's mind recalled the comments from earlier today made by fans and viewers of Good Mythical Morning, them hating on his weak state. He distinctly remembered the exact words.

Link is such a baby...Don't be a wuss, Link...He's too girly...Link is such a weakling...

He knows there's plenty more where that came from, having read millions of hate comments that were far worse than that. The subject of matter grind his gears. Link would pretend to not think anything of it and laugh it off, but the reason for this would be because Rhett is with him when they read the feedback they receive on all of the social media accounts they have. He wouldn't want to let Rhett see him so brought down by these people that they've never even met, even though their every opinion mattered to Link. When he reads stuff like that on his own Link feels the urge to, well, just bawl. That is how terrible it feels, to be told that he is a pathetic cream puff, a pussy, a worthless little shit, or that he is not a man at all if he behaves so flimsy compared to...Rhett.

"Damn it all!", Link managed to bellow with the last of the rage that built up from the deepest pit in him. His hands slammed on both sides of the sink, his palms bracing it tight, and he leaned on them. He hung his head, not daring to look at not himself but a broken being in the mirror once again, bangs of dark brown dangling from his head of hair. Link's breathing was heavy from all the energy he had used up on that hissy fit.

"Rhett.", he pant once he was able to form a word or sentence. One of his hands had levitated off the sink slowly before coming back down with another slam. "Damn, Rhett. Why you? Why is it always you?" Link shook his head before turning away from the sink and mirror, now facing the green wall. His hands met his hips and he shook his head a second time. Growing up, he's always been put down and compared to his best friend of many years. The memories flooded his brain, remembering the pain he'd feel inside. Without knowing it, he said these remarks from his childhood and teen years and even his college years to himself.

Charles, why can't you man up like your pal, Rhett?

Why are you such a yellow belly compared to McLaughlin?

Why does McLaughlin need to bail you out or come to your rescue a-as if you're some kind of damsel in distress, Neal? C-can't you be a...a fucking man and help yourself?

You might as well have been better off born a dame since you act so much like a princess.

"I'm not a princess.", Link muttered. "I am a man." His hands molded into clenching fists that shook from new enmity bubbling up inside of him. He could feel his lungs enlarge then return to normal size but then repeat as his breathing was heavy once again. Link was fighting back tears as well, but the war between his emotions and his will was not extended as his blue eyes were overflowed. He felt like a coward for crying, which drove him over the cliff once again.

"I am a man. I'm a man! I'm a man, God dammit! I ain't no fucking princess!"

For the second time, resentment blanketed Link and he let his physical actions do the talking. It was as if the green wall had been painted red as the color was what filled his vision. He became so possessed by animosity that the next several seconds had flown by without notice. When Link was brought out of his trance he saw a dent on the wall right in front of him. He came to realize that the rage had came and went and was substituted with an excruciating throbbing sensation coming from his right fist. Link glanced down at his hand and was horrified by what his eyes beheld.

Patches of blue engulfed all four knuckles, droplets of blood seeping from the cuts of every one. The agony was unbearable as he attempted to open his hand, wincing and whimpering every time. The total sight sickened his stomach, feeling his insides curdle, and his other hand that wasn't so severely harmed found its way to his mouth. Link couldn't stand the sight of blood, it made him nauseous, and now that there was some before him he was on the verge of retching. "What have I done?", he gasped.

Suddenly there were several deafening knocks outside the bathroom door, but that wasn't what made Link almost leap out of the boots he wore. What followed did.

"Link? Link!", Rhett hollered. "Link, what's going on in there? Link, answer me!" There was a collaboration of panic and worry in his calls, which made Link quake with anxiousness.

"What do I do?", he inaudibly asked himself. "Rhett's outside the door and-" Rhett. It was Rhett that was beckoning him, the son of a bitch that sent him on a rampage for the second time in this very room. "I'm fine, Rhett.", he answered back, lying to the both of them.

"What was that thud?", Rhett catechized. "What're you doing in there?"

"That is none of your concern."

On the other side of the door that separated them Rhett stood amazed, yet bewildered. Link would never in a million years answer to him the way he did, so harsh and out-of-character. The fact that his best friend of many decades does not want him to be a part of what he feared would be something serious, having heard screams of agony coming from inside the restroom moments ago, worried Rhett even more. Not to mention, he questioned if maybe he already is a part of Link's distress since the halls were now so empty and silent, with only the two of them in the building, that he was able to hear Link talking to himself. Rhett couldn't help but hear his name be mentioned once or twice in there.

"Link," Rhett began to say, "really, what is going on?"

"I already told you, I'm fine. Can't you just drop it and let me be? Jesus Christ!" After that, Rhett could have sworn he heard the cabinet open, followed by the sound of stuff being taken out. Despite the mouthwash and toothpaste, Link only used what was stored in there if there was an emergency, and that would only require the use of the First Aid kit.

Taken aback by his remark, Rhett's jaw dropped. "Wh-what hell is your problem, man?!", he roared. "Where did that come from? How dare you answer to me like that?!"

"You are my fucking problem, Rhett McLaughlin!", Link fired back. The sound of the bathroom cabinet being slammed shut could be heard even from outside the room. "I'm an adult, a man if you please. I'm allowed to answer to you in any way I can!"

Stunned, Rhett took a step back, his eyebrows raised to an unbelievable height. "Me, your problem?"

"Yes."

"W-why? What did I do wrong?"

"You didn't do anything wrong. That's the point! You're just Mr. Perfect and I'm...a creep." Rhett could hear a change in Link's tone at the last part. It wasn't fierce anymore, it sounded hurt. "I'm a weirdo."

Before Rhett could hatch up a sentence the bathroom door swung open at last. Link stood infuriated, staring coldly at the other. "You make me feel like I'm different!", he cried. "You're the reason this happened to me! Look!" He held up his right hand and shoved it in Rhett's face. The knuckles were now wrapped in bandages, blood staining the fabric material.

Now it was Rhett that was horrified. "Link! What in the freaking hell did you do to yourself?!", he gasped.

"You mean, what did you do to me."

"I don't even understand how I'm involved in this, Link!", Rhett argued. "Please just tell me what the fuck this is! Why are your knuckles bandaged, what are you attacking me for, and why are we even standing here having this conversation and not taking you to see a doctor?"

Link knew he had a lot of ground to cover, so he took a moment to gather his thoughts before deciding to just lay it on Rhett. He does realize that he needs professional urgent care for his bashed fist, so the sooner he gets it all out in the open the better.

"I punched the bathroom wall, Rhett. I did it because I was extremely furious. What was I so hopping mad about, might you ask? The answer is that I fucking hate that I feel like I'm shit compound to you.

My life in North Carolina was always having to hear all our friends and everybody in school tell me that I was a defenseless twerp because I constantly depended on you to have my back, and that I was too feminine and whiny at least. It would hurt, but I would still look up to you. Now, I have to hear it from our fans and viewers. Do you know how many people watch enough Good Mythical Morning to say that I'm just a coward set side by side someone as dauntless as you? Do you, Rhett?"

Given all of this information, Rhett could see why his buddy is holding a grudge with him. He now sees how he is associated with his dilemma. Link was never cut any slack because Rhett was always the example of how gallant he should be. Rhett saw that now, how broken Link feels because of him, and it pulled at his heart strings.

"Millions.", he muttered so softly it was like a whisper. "It's millions, Link. I should know because you and me read all of the comments, and when I was searching for some to read to you today I lost track of how many I saw. The stuff they say about you, Link, is just awful."

"You know what's even more awful?", Link asked. "It is that you side with them, and that is why you dressed me up like this. You weren't helping me, Rhett. You were only helping yourself."

Rhett felt like the wind knocked his sails pretty good because he was at lost for breath when Link said that, and his bottom lip quivered. "That's not true!", he gasped. "Link, you know damn well that I would never in my life use you for my own favor!" There was no denying it. Even if it was meant to be for the show, he wanted to at least give Link some tips for changing up his look the very slightest, but he sees that Link took it all by heart and it raised his self-esteem. All because of Rhett when he didn't even know it. "Oh, Link! I'm so sorry!"

Talk about being dauntless, because Rhett cupped his face with both hands and was now sobbing like a neglected infant, muffling apology after apology.

Link couldn't stand seeing his close friend bawl, even if he needed Rhett to open his eyes and understand why he's so angry at him. He wanted to pull him into a reassuring embrace or at least give a comforting pat on the shoulder. Link couldn't bring himself to achieve either one though. He wasn't quite open to making up just yet. Besides, his right hand was beginning to hurt like a bitch and he needed to get it checked out by a physician immediately. "Hey listen, Rhett. I got to go have my hand be seen, on my own though. You're going to have to find some other way to get home."

With that, Link made his way to the dressing room to retrieve his wallet, car keys, and tortoise glasses. He had no time to change back into his casual attire, making a mental note to return once he has been seen. Link made haste through the hallways again then continued this pace once he was out the door. He wasn't sure how he was going to be able to drive with a hand that was beat up and another that was not, but he was sure he'd manage.

Link started up his car and drove out of the parking lot.

Rhett did not leave the studio. He instead hung out in his and Link's office, sitting at his desk with his head in his hands. The water works had eventually died down and now his noggin ached from all the weeping he's done. Silence was his company, even considering the solitude an accepted friend, and like a companion it provided Rhett with a good long talk about what took place moments ago and how he was coping with it and what he should do now. Rhett still felt guilty for what he's done to Link, that's the coping part, but about what he was to do about it he drew a blank. There really isn't anything he can do.

It was unforgivable.

The peace and quiet carried on for hours before Rhett had finally raised his head from his hands, and his heavy green eyes were locked with the first inanimate object he saw. His acoustic guitar sat against the wall, and even though it consisted of no eyes, Rhett could sense it staring straight back at him. Something in his mind told him to get off his ass and take a hold of the musical instrument, and Rhett easily obliged without a moment's second chance at thought.

Upon grasping the neck of the guitar, Rhett felt the memories of him and Link making music and singing songs together surge through his body like electricity, the sudden jolt feeling swimming through his veins and wounding up making a stop at his stomach. Was this a good thing, a bad one? Could it have meant something? Rhett didn't know, but because of this he was now remembering how dulcet his best friend's voice of song felt when listening to it. It was like hearing a symphony chorus sing on the stage, beautiful and majestic no matter how Link sang. Rhett could listen to it all day.

Heck, he already listens to his speaking voice all day everyday!

Link had been all Rhett was thinking about since he left the building, but now that he was thinking about the goodness that he beholds the feeling in his stomach grew more and more. Rhett glanced down at his guitar and figured he'd use Link as his muse to start playing since his mind wasn't anywhere else. Taking the pick out from beneath the strings and returning to sit at his desk, Rhett began to strum for a good minute before settling on a slow rhythm. He hummed for any lyrics to go with the peaceful music that was forming, anything that had to do with Link. At last, he found his words and began to sing.

Link arrived back to the studio to retrieve his usual clothing like he planned to. The doctor confirmed that his knuckles were indeed fractured from the blow he delivered to the wall, telling Link the neck of all four metacarpals were broken seriously, and that his wrist was also sprained. The blood was cleaned off and he was given a new bandage, then he was given a prescription for an anti-inflammatory.

He was instructed to be driven home by someone other than himself, but he didn't want to worry Christy or call her out of work just to pick him up from the hospital, and he had left Rhett to get home on his own. It had taken Link almost fifteen minutes to convince the doctor to let him drive himself, even using clever reasoning by pointing out that he had brought himself to the hospice all in one piece, and he's sure he can make the trip back just as successfully. He finally won them over.

Link thought he would be the only one in the building as he walked through the parking lot, getting ready to get whatever he needed and leave again to take a load off at home. His theory was proven wrong as he stepped inside and witnessed the sound of an acoustic guitar being played from somewhere in the studio. The noise was mellow, but it was also well-tuned as Link listened on. He knew that whoever the mystery musician was surely knew what they were doing.

Although the melody was very euphonious, Link had to draw his head around the fact that someone else was in the building with him. Without thinking, he tiptoed all through the halls following the enchanting music like he was trapped in some sort of spell. The sound became louder as he moved further, his heart rate quickening from apprehension. He was in too deep, like a tide pulling him away from the shore. He couldn't bring himself to turn back.

When Link's feet stopped moving at last he took note that he had reached his and Rhett's office, where the music was officially coming from. He also took note that the light was on as he could see by the almost closed door.

They're in there, Link concluded. He crept closer to the room ever so quietly until he was at the door. His fingers twitched as the tips were brought to the knob, preparing to confront the raider on his own, and maybe even be attacked.

Then, he heard it. He heard him.

"This is just a song to say 'I'm sorry'

For the many times that I mistreated you

You'd thought I'd never find my way

Or any right words to say how wrong I was"

"Rhett?", Link whispered to himself surprised. He thought he had left the studio hours ago, maybe even be home at this moment. Yet, here he was!

"This is the way I'm truly feeling

All the things I've kept hidden deep inside

I know you never turned away

Or made me feel ashamed

You just held on"

Link listened closely to the words Rhett was singing, even noticing the hurt in his voice. Was this about himself and what happened between them earlier? Is this suppose to be some sort or apology from Rhett, because if it is Link was already feeling sympathy towards his friend.

"Now I'm not saying that we're not better off

On the way that things turned out

But baby, hold on

All the time that I was given

I would not trade away

All I'd ask is..is that you'd hear me say

I'm sorry to say it had to end this way

I'm saying it clear, and babe, I hope you hear"

"Baby? Babe?", Link questioned. Could this mean...does this mean Rhett...what is this? However, when Link had heard that break two verses ago he knew that all of this was from the heart of Rhett himself. He was taken aback by the lyrics coming from his own mind, or at least Link hoped it was all Rhett, and he soon found the hand he had injured was at his sternum. He could feel his heart beating at a normal speed now, and it felt good to feel this beat, along with how the rest of his body felt. That said a lot.

"This it is the day you won't be forgotten

Your place is somewhere deep inside my heart

You'd thought I'd never find my way

Or any right words to say how wrong I was"

That was that, and Link could hear the last string of the guitar be strummed. He gradually pushed the door open, gaining more light from the workplace, seeing Rhett at his desk. He looked up at Link with a startled expression on his face as he set his guitar aside, his green eyes not breaking away from Link's blue ones. "Link!", he gasped in a way that both could not tell if it was due to surprise or happiness. "Y-you're back?"

Link had trouble finding his voice, coming out cracked every time he tried to speak. "I-I was suppose to c-come back and change into my regular clothes w-when I heard your guitar."

"You did?" Rhett's face flushed from embarrassment.

"I heard everything, Rhett. Your guitar, your voice, your song, your words." Link couldn't keep it in anymore, and he lost it. His tears were flooded in an instant and he was sniffling, even gasping here and there.

"What did you think?", Rhett nervously asked.

"It was beautiful. I loved it, Rhett."

"Then why are you crying like that, Link?"

"I...I don't know why, I just am! Maybe it is because it's all from you, if that's good enough."

Maybe it wasn't to Link, but to Rhett it meant everything. It meant so much that a much needed smile stretched his face. He got on his feet so fast it came and went and Rhett enveloped Link in a tight embrace in which he kindly returned, still sniffling. "Shouldn't we just pat each other's backs instead? That seems like a more manly gesture."

"Forget about being manly, Link.", Rhett said. "I was wrong to make you dress up like some sort of idiot. I should have never tried to change you. You're awesome just the way you are, with your stupid winged haircut and nerd glasses and T-shirt with Star Wars imprinted in pink. That's the Link Neal I'd prefer any day." Rhett could feel Link beginning to smile against his arm and give a tiny giggle. "And Link?"

"Yeah?" The smaller man's voice was so gentle, like he was talking in his sleep. Rhett can even feel his breath exhale from his nostrils on his own skin.

"Look at me, would you please?" Link raised his head to meet with Rhett's eyes, both getting lost in the other's for a while. To Rhett, it was like looking at the ocean on a perfect sunny day. Link's blue eyes were just that beautiful. "I don't know why I do this very moment, and I know I'm just going to sound like a complete sap for this, but here it is. I love you, Link, and not in a brotherly way or even in a best friend-kind of way." Rhett shook his head and let out a chuckle. "I am in love with you, Link. I don't know how you done and did it, but I'm so in love with you."

Link stared up at him. He didn't say a word right away, but he was beginning to return a giggle, then it turned into a laugh. Soon enough, he was cracking up, almost hysterically. This should have worried Rhett considering he just lay his heart out to Link, but instead he cracked a smile. "What is so funny?"

"I can't say I ain't feeling the same way, Rhett.", Link said once he could speak.

Rhett's grin dropped and he widened his eyes. "Wait a minute here now. Y-you mean you..."

"Maybe it was your song, I haven't got a clue, but I love you too, Rhett. That might probably explain why I've always looked up to you."

"Or why you were so angry at me today.", Rhett joked. He slowly brought his lips to Link's as he leaned his head forward to be at his height. They brushed over each other gently before connecting perfectly together like puzzle pieces. Both men deepened the kiss in unison as they pressed their lips together, and soon their jaws were in contact. As first kisses go, this one was more eager as their mouths hungrily attacked one another, sometimes little moans escaping when they'd drift apart then go back for more. Rhett was first to end it, receiving a whine from the other, but he held Link's face in his hands and planted a soft kiss on his nose to make up for it. "I'm sorry I've made you feel like you're inadequate.", he said. "You are so special, Link, and you don't even have to try hard. Please don't ever change for me or for anyone else."

Link smiled tenderly at Rhett, brushing the side of his face with his right hand, both laughing since it was the hand that was a victim to all this mess. "Can you make me feel special, Rhett?"

"I certainly can."

"How then?"

"I'll start with this." Rhett claimed Link's mouth again, picking up where they had left off seconds ago, even increasing it by devouring his lips while sinking down to the office floor.

He took Link down with him.